


Ugly AF

by Sinistretoile



Series: Holiday Spirit [25]
Category: Actor RPF, American (US) Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Chris Evans in a sweater, Christmas, Christmas Smut, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, F/M, Fingerfucking, Fucking, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Rough Sex, Sex, Sexual Content, Shameless Smut, Smut, Tumblr Prompt, Ugly Holiday Sweaters, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 11:42:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17263559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinistretoile/pseuds/Sinistretoile
Summary: She hates Chris's new sweater.





	Ugly AF

**Author's Note:**

> One of two submissions into Dangerous Vikings Christmas Writing Challenge. 
> 
> Prompt: “That is the ugliest sweater I’ve ever seen.” and “How many Christmas sweaters do you own?”

Normally, I –LOVED- Chris’s sweaters. Even the ugly Christmas sweaters we wore for parties. But as I stood in the doorway braiding my hair, I couldn’t help but think the orange and crème monstrosity that he wore now was the ugliest fucking thing I had even seen my beloved ever wear.  
“Evans?” He paused trimming his beard at the tone in my voice.  
“What?” His pretty pink lips curled into that half smile he wore half the time. Like only he got the joke. I knew for a fact that that beard was just as soft as the hair on his head and felt fabulous against my skin. I tied off the braid then crossed my arms over my chest. “What the actual fuck are you wearing?”  
“A sweater.”  
“Baby, no. Go change.”  
“Why?”  
“That is the ugliest sweater I’ve seen.” I uncrossed my arms and left the doorway.  
“It reminded me of a Dreamscicle.”  
“No. Just. No. Please change, babe. Why don’t you wear the navy one I can’t keep my hands off of?”  
“This one is just as soft as that one.” He appeared in the door way as I sat down to pull on the soft brown knee boots that reminded me of Capt’s brown leather jacket.  
“I don’t care.”  
“Come on, feel it.” He stood in front of me.  
“No.” I zipped the boot and stood up, putting our bodies very close together.  
“Come on, babe. Just feel it.”  
“Chris, no.” I squeezed past him but the game was afoot. He followed me through the house with Dodger at both of our heels.  
“Feel the sweater.”  
“No.”  
“Just feel it. Come on, you’ll love it.” I sped up but he chased me around the couch, around the kitchen island, down the halls. I began to laugh uncontrollably and hurry faster until we were running full out, Dodger barking in pursuit.  
I tripped, my toe caught on the door jamb. Stumbling, I tried to catch myself even as Chris tried to keep me from falling. He only succeeded in tackling me to the carpet. “Fuck, babe, are you ok?”  
“I’m fine.” I giggled, out of breath. Dodger walked around us, pacing back and forth.  
“Good. Now, touch the fucking sweater.”  
“Alright, alright.” I skimmed my hands up his back. He was right. It was just as soft as the navy one I loved so much. “Yes, it’s soft. But it’s still fucking ugly, Chris.”  
“It is, isn’t it?” He grinned. My hands slipped under the back of the sweater to touch his soft skin and glorious back muscles. “Hey now.”  
I hummed. “I think I like this much better though.”  
Chris leaned in and pressed his lips to mine in a soft yet passionate kiss. His tongue touched my lips before I opened them. I sighed when he moaned and pressed his groin against me. I wrapped my legs around his waist, stretching the fabric of the leggings that I wore.  
“We’re gonna be late for the party.” I moaned in agreement. His thick fingers pressed into the crotch of the leggings. Fabric ripped and the sound added to my arousal. He pushed the panties to the side. “Fuck, babe, you’re so wet.”  
“Please, Chris.”  
“What do you need, babygirl?”  
“Touch me please.”  
“I am, baby.” His fingertips petted the soft tuft of hair on my pussy lips. I swiveled my hips, trying to get more friction.  
“More.”  
“More? You mean like this?” He slid his thumb up and down my clit. I arched off the carpet, groaning. “Oh yeah, like this. Or how about this?” He kept his thumb rubbing the bundle of nerves but twisted his wrist and pushed two fingers inside me.  
“Yes! Like that.” He pressed kisses along my jaw. His fingers pumped in and out of me. I rocked my hips with his motion, fucking myself on his fingers. Breathlessly repeating ‘like that’ over and over. His teeth scraped my jaw.  
“Or maybe this?” He crooked his fingers to press them into my g-spot.  
“Oh fuck.” I spread my legs wide and pushed up into his hand.  
“Definitely like that.” He continued his onslaught against my clit and g-spot, until I began to shake and beg him to let me cum.  
“Please, Chris. Please, let me cum. Fuck. So close.”  
“Yeah? You gonna soak my fingers, babygirl?”  
“Yes, baby. Please. Please don’t stop.” He moaned and pressed his hips against me. I could feel his hard cock against my hip and that was all I needed. That and the dig of his knuckles against my sweet spot. I groaned and twisted like I was possessed by a demon, squirting all over his fingers and wrist.  
“Fuck, that is so sexy, sweetheart.” He slipped his fingers out then brought them to his lips. I watched with hooded eyes as he sucked them clean.  
“Fuck me, baby. I need you.”  
“Roll over, babe.” He moved up enough for me to roll onto my belly. His strong hands grabbed the ripped edges of the leggings and pulled. I shuddered. Then the sound of his zipper pinged right through me. His thighs pressed against mine before I felt the touch of his cock head against my opening. He pushed inside, stretching me, filling me. We groaned. I pushed back against him.  
“Please, baby. Fuck me. Fuck me so good, Chris.”  
“Whatever you want, baby.” He pulled out, watching as he did so. He loved watching my vaginal lining cleave to his cock as he pulled out then himself disappearing inside me as his hips snapped forward. He did the slow drag a few more times, making me impatient and whiney, which earned me a slap on the ass.  
“Christopher.” He chuckled then I had to grab onto the carpet as he railed into me. I gasped and moaned, meeting his thrusts. He reached underneath me to rub my clit.  
“One more, baby. Give me another one. Then I promise I’ll change my sweater.”  
I laughed. The absurdity of that fucking sweater in this moment. But hey, if I got to cum AND he changed? Win-win for me. I rocked my hips back, caught between his lean, hard body and busy fingers. He groaned in my ear.  
“Fuck, you feel good, sweetheart. Nice and snug. And wet. That soaking cunt clenching my dick. Goddamn!” His dirty words pulled my nipples tight. “You like that, don’tcha?” He slapped my thigh. “My dirty girl likes being talked to like a slut, yeah?”  
“Oh fuck, Chris.” I clenched around him. He slapped my thigh again then moved to my ass, slapping the cheeks back and forth through the thin fabric of the leggings.  
“Cum for me, baby.”  
“Yes, Chris. Oh fuck, yes, Chris.” I shuddered hard as my orgasm rolled through me. My fists gripped the carpet, my high-pitch cry sounding even louder as I dropped my head. He bowed over me and gripped my breasts through the knit sweater and pounded into me until he stopped, stilling with his cock deep inside me. I felt it pulse as he came.

I pulled my coat on and buttoned three of the buttons. “Come on, babe! We’re already late.”  
“I’m coming.” He thundered down the stairs. True to his word, he’d changed his sweater. And true to Christopher Robert Evans, it was an ugly fucking Christmas sweater, NOT the navy one. “You like?”  
“It’s definitely you, baby.” He twirled a snazzy turn in his Patriots patterned ugly Christmas sweater. “Just exactly how many Christmas sweaters do you own?” He laughed, pulling his coat on then urging me out into the snow-swirled darkness. “Chris, how many?” He just laughed. “Chris!”


End file.
